


Stolen Moments When You're Mine

by verfound



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Endgame Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, F/M, He's a Main Squeeze, Lovebugs & Snakecharmers Valentine's Exchange 2020, Luka is Not a Rebound, Secret Relationship, gratuitous makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:27:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22687732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verfound/pseuds/verfound
Summary: Marinette likes Luka.  She can admit that now.  And she really likes kissing Luka – she can also admit that.  And she knows he likes her, too.  And all the kissing.  She’s just not quite ready for everyone to accuse her of using him as a rebound or a ploy to make Adrien jealous yet.  Really, she’s not ready to share him at all.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 23
Kudos: 601
Collections: Lovebugs and Snake Charmers





	Stolen Moments When You're Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [semi_slaughtomatic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semi_slaughtomatic/gifts).



> …so, uh. Hey, @semi-slaughtomatic. Remember about a month ago when I posted that thing about flustered Mari wanting to bite Luka’s neck and you asked if I was in your brain? ;P GUESS WHO’S YOUR SECRET ADMIRER! :D There are so many gratuitous makeouts ahead of you, girl. Hope this is rubbable enough! ;D <3 (This is for the Lovebugs & Snakecharmers Valentine’s exchange, and it’s really nothing but thinly-veiled plot to facilitate makeouts. PWP without the porn? I was a little worried about the ages, but I work at a middle school and y’all after some of the things I’ve heard our seventh & eighth graders say the past few weeks I’m not worried At All.)
> 
>  **The Prompts:**  
>  Luka and Marinette getting together/trying to keep their relationship secret because Marinette doesn’t really want any "what about Adrien!?!" judgement from people because she quite frankly is over him. Luka and Marinette both fail miserable at trying to hide their affections for each other around other people (Luka is getting a hilarious kick out of Marinette's elaborate planning but it's okay cause secret make-outs are kind of hot). 
> 
> Luka dressing in a different outfit (although punk still is very fashionable about it) and Marinette's brain self-implodes (pre-relationship shenanigans maybe?)

When Marinette had gone to the Liberty that sunny Wednesday afternoon near the end of the school year, it had not been with the intention of finding out how good a kisser Luka Couffaine was. That part had been a complete accident.

(A happy accident, but an accident all the same.)

She had actually gone for Juleka, who had been out with Rose at the time. She had been returning some items she had mended for her (a few tunics and a dress), and she had had every intention – once she’d realized her friend wasn’t home – to leave the bag with the Captain and be on her merry way. It was almost summer, the weather was gorgeous, and she was Ladybug – she had better things to do than wait around (potentially for hours) for Juleka to come home from a date. Of course, then the Captain had told her to just leave the bag in Juleka’s cabin, and then _Luka_ had been on his bed working on a song, and then they’d started talking, and the next thing either of them knew she had crawled into his lap and was kissing the ever-loving daylights out of him.

She didn’t even remember how she had gotten there. He had been telling her about something, and there had just been something about the light in his eyes and the way his lips curved as he spoke, and then she had started wondering about how those lips would feel against her own, and then she was kissing him – and he wasn’t stopping her. If anything, he was encouraging it! So when she yanked back, her hands tangled in his hair and her chest heaving with every shaking breath, he just blinked at her with a slow, surprised sort of smile – and God, he was _blushing_. Not as bad as she was sure she was, but that was definitely a blush on his face!

“I-I’m sorry!” she squeaked. She tried to scoot back, and that was around when she realized she was sitting on him – and his own hands were firmly lodged on her hips, keeping her in place. She swallowed thickly and shook her head. “Sorry! I shouldn’t have…oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

His response had been immediate. Simple, given the panic she felt crawling up her back like his hands had moments before.

“…why?” he asked. He sounded entirely too calm for the catastrophic-level meltdown she was experiencing. She swallowed again and slowly lifted her gaze to meet his own. He was _smiling_. He looked ridiculously happy, actually. And God, if she’d thought his lips had looked tempting before…

“B-because…I shouldn’t have done that? I mean I…I didn’t even _ask_ , I just _jumped you –_ ” she started, and his low chuckle (and the way he was brushing his thumb along her hip, right below the hem of her shirt) gave her pause.

“I’m not complaining,” he said, but then he frowned as she continued to watch him. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, and she was finding there was something wonderful about the way his calloused skin felt against her own. “Do you like me, Marinette?”

“I…! I…!” she squeaked. Her eyes had blown wide, her mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish. When he continued to just sit there, watching her patiently, she snapped her jaw shut and nodded, mutely. Her face was on _fire_ , and she wanted more than anything to break his gaze, but there was something about the way he was watching her that kept her from doing so. A warmth that filled her from the inside and wrapped around her like a comforting hug. Her voice was small when she finally answered, but it was certain. Unwavering. “…yes.”

“And did you want to kiss me?” he continued, brushing his thumb against the corner of her mouth. She fought the urge (the _hormones_ ) to suck that thumb into her mouth like some…some… _wanton harlot_.

(…note to self: stop perusing Alya’s romance novels!)

“… _yes_ ,” she sighed, her eyes finally closing as she remembered how good kissing him actually was. Once he’d gotten over the initial shock, he had pulled her to him like a drowning man. His lips had been softer than she’d imagined (and she could admit she’d been imagining them _a lot_ lately), yet firm, and she’d never really seen the appeal in another person’s tongue until his had run along her own. (…which was also maybe a lie, because she had watched him licking at ice cream a week ago and had admittedly found that tongue _very_ appealing.) She swallowed again and opened her eyes to find him still watching her, amusement clear in his eyes. He drew his other hand up along her side, then placed it against the other side of her face. He cradled her head, dipping his head towards her to watch her through hooded eyes, and oh that look was enough to make her dizzy…

“Then you have nothing to apologize for,” he said, resting his forehead against her own, “because you know I’ve liked you forever, and I definitely wanted to kiss you, and if you like me too and also wanted to kiss me…then I’m kinda hoping you won’t complain if I kiss you again.”

She blinked rapidly, and she was pretty sure she was trying to swallow her own tongue. His fingers were hot against her face, but everywhere he was touching her burned. She was pretty sure she was about to die, either from embarrassment or joy or both, but it seemed like a nice way to go.

“Because I gotta tell you, Marinette,” he said, his voice low. He had the nerve to _wink_ at her, and her stomach did a pleasant little summersault as a result. “I _really_ want to kiss you again. A lot.”

“O-oh?” she asked, coughing slightly when the words caught. She cleared her throat and glanced away. Some part of her mind registered that her fingers were still in his hair, and she was pretty sure she’d been playing with the teal strands the entire time she…good Lord, was she still sitting in his lap? She bit her lower lip and looked back at him, and there was a strangled sort of sound – she’d call it a moan, but she wasn’t really well-versed in moans – that escaped him.

It occurred to her, rather belatedly, that _Luka Couffaine liked her._ That _Luka Couffaine liked kissing her_ – really liked kissing her, apparently, and wanted to continue doing so. And…well, she really liked kissing him, too, so what was she doing still staring at him like a dummy?

“I really want to kiss you again, too,” she said. She was amazed at how shy she suddenly sounded – how shy she suddenly _felt_ – considering she had had his tongue in her mouth not five minutes ago. She bit her lip again, and he grinned at her like an idiot. “…a lot.”

His smile widened at that, and he was brushing his thumb against her cheek again. Her smile got a bit bigger, too – her cheeks were starting to pinch from it all.

It occurred to her that she was _happy_ , and when was the last time liking someone had genuinely made her happy?

“C’mere, then,” he said, his low voice sending a shiver down her spine. He pulled her back to him, and for the next half hour she found herself lost in a slow, lazy makeout – the kind Alya had made her blush over but she had never actually experienced herself. And it was nice, too. It was really, really nice.

…until she heard Juleka and Rose’s voices from just beyond the door (oh God had his door been open _the entire time?!)_ and she leapt from him in panic. Ok…in a spastic flail. That might have connected her forehead with his nose and jammed her knee into his groin. She really couldn’t be certain as she scrambled from his bed in a flurry of limbs and came to stand rigidly before his pick collection just as Juleka and Rose walked into the room.

“S-so who’s this one fr-om, again?” she asked way too loudly, pointing to a pick at random and praying her nervous stutter hadn’t given them entirely away. She glanced over to him and winced when she saw him hunched over, one hand clutching his nose while the other clutched…he was still grinning though, so she tried not to feel _too_ bad about it. She mouthed _sorry_ before turning a manic grin on Juleka and Rose. “Oh! Hey, guys! What are doing you here? You doing here?!”

Oh, great. Word Salad Marinette was back to boot. What in the world did Luka even see in her?

“Hey, Marinette!” Rose chirped, waving. “What are you doing here?”

Juleka was shooting a suspicious look at her brother, but he was still watching Marinette with that stupid look he got whenever she was around. So…she couldn’t be _too_ suspicious. Marinette hoped, at least.

“Your clothes were ready! I was just dropping them off, and Luka and I got to talking –” she started, and Juleka’s visible eyebrow soared.

“Talking,” she deadpanned, and the laugh that escaped Marinette was more a nervous cackle than anything else. Juleka’s eyes had slid to her neck, and Luka was still grinning like he was ridiculously proud of himself, and Marinette slapped her hand against her neck hard enough to hurt. She covered the smack up by rubbing nervously – a perfectly innocent gesture, right? Nothing suspicious – incriminating – at all!

“A-anyway!” she screeched. Luka’s smile had disappeared. He was frowning at her now, concern in his eyes. “I…uh…your clothes are in the bag, and I gotta go! Supposed to help at the bakery tonight – see you guys at school tomorrow! Bye, Luka!”

Juleka said nothing as she raced past her, Rose waved (the gesture as uncertain as the awkward smile on her face) and called a farewell after her, and Luka…he was already moving, calling after her to wait – that he’d see her out. She didn’t, though, and she was back above deck before he caught up to her.

“Marinette, _wait_ ,” he called again, catching her wrist before she could move past the door. She spun and stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. One hand cupped her cheek while the other slid from her wrist to slide his fingers through her own. “Breathe. Are you ok?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “Luka, they almost…and we…oh my God. I just spent the past half hour with your tongue down my throat!”

He chuckled, and while he was grinning again there was a rosy hue to his cheeks. He didn’t seem upset about it, though. Or embarrassed. He shocked the hell out of her when he dipped down and pressed his lips against her own in a quick kiss, though considering what they’d spent the past half hour doing she wasn’t sure _why_ it shocked her.

“I know,” he murmured against her lips, amused. “I was there.”

She groaned and fell against him, burying her face in his chest. She could feel it shaking against her with his laughter.

“It’s not funny!” she whined.

“It’s a little funny,” he said. She jabbed her elbow at his ribs, and he rubbed a reassuring hand against her back. “Ok, ok – it’s not funny. But…I’m a little confused? You said you liked me. You said you wanted to kiss me. So if I like you, and you like me, I guess I don’t really see the problem with what we were doing?”

“…it’s not that,” she mumbled, burrowing closer to him. He waited for her to find the words, his hand still running soothing lines along her back. She relaxed a little, moving her arms from where they were trapped between them to around his back in a loose hug. “It’s…Juleka. And Rose. And how they almost caught us.”

“I can promise you they’ve done worse,” he said. She snorted when he grimaced. “Or the same. I actually don’t know how far they’ve gone yet, and I really don’t care to. As long as they’re smart about it that’s their business. Not mine.”

“It’s not that they almost walked in on us,” she said. She frowned, bit her lip, then shook her head. She peeked up at him. “It’s…they almost walked in on me. With you.”

“I’m…still confused,” he said, and she groaned.

“I like you!” she cried, pulling away from him a bit to look up at him. He nodded, even as she was wincing and shooting a nervous look towards the door beside them. She was much quieter when she continued. “I like you. A lot. A lot a lot. But…for the longest time, they’ve only known that I liked _Adrien_.”

“…ah,” he said, nodding. He was frowning again. She hated making him frown like that.

“They were both really instrumental in a lot of Alya’s matchmaking schemes,” she continued. He nodded again. “And I don’t think any of them fully realize how much I _don’t like Adrien_ anymore.”

“…because you like me,” he said, and she couldn’t help giggling at the hopeful look he was giving her. She nodded and leaned up, pecking his lips. She could get used to kissing him. “And not Adrien.”

“Because I like you,” she confirmed, “and not Adrien.”

“But you’re worried they won’t understand that,” he said, and she nodded.

“I liked you both at first,” she said, biting her lip again as she thought about what she wanted to say and how she wanted to say it. “Liking you was…easy. And unexpected. And I probably ignored it for longer than I otherwise would have because of Adrien. And not liking him was…it was a long time coming, and surprisingly easy, too. But…”

“…but?” he asked when she went quiet for a moment.

“…so you know that ad that just came out? For the Gabriel summer swim line? The one where Adrien’s shirtless with the water bottle?” she asked. He nodded, trying not to smirk. He was _very_ familiar with that ad: Nino had been mocking it relentlessly since it had dropped.

“The one Alya showed you at practice last weekend and asked how much you’d like to drink the water from his abs?” he asked. She groaned and nodded.

“Exactly! She asked me that, and _nothing_ ,” she huffed. “But that same practice, you were just chugging that water after that sick riff-off with Ivan, and all I could think about was how your throat was moving and how much I just wanted to bite your neck and I couldn’t think straight the rest of the day and –”

“Wait, _that’s_ why you tripped leaving the boat?” he asked, still trying his best not to smile, but her eyes widened in mortification when she realized what she had just confessed to.

“I-I-I…that-that is…oh my God,” she gasped, hiding her face against his chest as he started laughing.

“No, no, Mari, that’s…that’s great!” he laughed, squeezing her tight. “I mean…oh my God. You almost fell into the Seine because you were thinking about biting my neck?”

His face was as red as her super suit when she peeked up at him. She was half tempted to bite him now, just to shut him up.

“My _point_ ,” she huffed, and though he was still grinning (and blushing, good Lord she’d made him _blush!_ ) he had at least stopped laughing, “is that I like _you_. A lot. And I want to be allowed to like you without any Adrien drama.”

“You’re allowed to like me, Mari,” he said. She warmed at the nickname, snuggling back into him as he squeezed her again. “I’m really, really glad you like me.”

“Can we just…can we just like each other, then? Alone?” she asked. “And not tell anyone just yet? I don’t want Juleka thinking I’m using her brother as a rebound. Or…ugh. I really don’t want Lila putting it into Alya’s head that I’m just using you to make Adrien jealous. I just want to like you, and kiss you, and maybe bite your neck if you’ll let me –”

“Oh, I might even bite yours,” he quipped, and she punched him lightly as he chuckled. She was pretty sure he already had, actually – as sure as she was that she had liked it. (And God, if _that’s_ what Juleka had been staring at they were already screwed…)

“– and not worry about anyone flipping out because you’re not _Adrien_ ,” she finished with a huff. He tipped her chin up and bent down, kissing her a bit slower – a bit deeper – this time. When he pulled away, his smile warmed her heart.

“Ok,” he said, nodding. “We’ll keep this just between us. But…I hope that means I can still take you out. Because, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, along with really wanting to kiss you…I really, really want to date you.”

She kissed him again. It was easier than finding the words to tell him how very much she’d like that, as well.

“Text me later,” she said when she pulled away. She pecked his lips one last time before detangling herself from his arms. She was practically skipping as she ran off the Liberty.

And if she tripped _again_ hopping onto the gangway, and if his joyous laughter followed her home, well…it wouldn’t be the first time she’d fallen into the Seine.

– V –

Except, as it turned out, Marinette was _really bad_ at keeping non-Miraculous secrets.

And Luka, who had been in love with her forever (or at least since they’d met, which felt like forever to his artistic soul) and was absolutely ecstatic about the fact that those feelings were being reciprocated, was quite frankly too pleased with the fact that _Marinette liked him and liked kissing him_ to care about keeping their new relationship a secret.

But she did, however, and he could respect that, so – for the time being, at least, he was her Secret Boyfriend. But as long as he was still her boyfriend, he found he didn’t much care about the secret part. He was willing to follow her lead on their relationship, especially as the _secret_ part tended to lead to _secret makeouts_ , and he was finding he was a big fan of the secret makeouts – even if they lead to some, quite frankly, rather ridiculous situations.

Like the first time she had come back to the Liberty after they’d started dating. Juleka had been out again, and what had started as a simple hangout – as Luka teaching her a new chord on the guitar – had turned into another makeout. And it had been amazing, wonderful, lovely – until Juleka had started shouting at him from the other room, and Marinette had flung herself into the drawer under his bed, and while she hadn’t kneed him anywhere pertinent that time he had still been left a breathless mess on his bed when his sister had walked in a moment later. Juleka had stood there, watching him expectantly, before rolling her eyes and heading to her side of the room to retrieve something. She had left a moment later (muttering about useless brothers), and Luka had leaned over his bed, opened the drawer, and raised an eyebrow at a paralyzed Marinette. She had giggled nervously before wiggling her fingers at him.

“…I love you, you ridiculous disaster,” he had laughed. And maybe it had been a little too soon to say it yet, and maybe he’d been feeling it for months by that point, and maybe her face had turned twelve shades of red as she gawked at him, but…well, it was what it was. And if she had sprung from the drawer and tackled him back to the bed after, he had no plans of complaining.

It also did not help at all that they were both very tactile people, which Marinette had known about herself but was surprised to learn about Luka. He had always seemed…not _shy_ , not once she got to know him, but…reserved, maybe? She was quickly learning, however, that around the right people he was quick to reach out with a hug or reassuring touch (and don’t even get her started on his love of cuddles…) – and she was one of the right people. It was also proving to be their biggest give-away: it was hard to keep your relationship a secret when you couldn’t stop touching each other.

On the first day of their _secret relationship_ , the very next day after Marinette had first _jumped him_ (which he loved reminding her of, especially as it made her face turn pinker than her pants), Luka had dropped Juleka off at school. The moment Marinette had seen him after crossing the street, her entire face had lit up and she had taken a running leap at him. Juleka, Rose, and Ivan had watched with wide, startled eyes as he easily caught her, and they had shared a suspicious – _knowing_ – look as she had snuggled into his chest. But when Ivan had cleared his throat, she had leapt away from him like he’d burned her before running off with a (lame) excuse about hearing Alya calling her. When Juleka had given him another _Look_ , he’d shrugged and said they were friends. Good friends. And good friends hug. She hadn’t looked convinced, though – especially when he’d hopped back on his bike and rode off _whistling_.

And maybe they were both easily distracted all day, and maybe Marinette had spent the better part of their lunch period that first day texting him and giggling at her phone (and oblivious to the pointed looks the girls kept giving her), and maybe his best friend couldn’t stop riding him about the stupid grin he’d been sporting all day, but…well.

Luka was two seconds away from bursting into the classroom, scooping Dingo up in a spinning hug, and doing his best _Elf_ impersonation as he shouted, “I’m in love, I’m in love, and I don’t care who knows it!”

Of course, it was easier around his friends. His friends didn’t know Adrien, and she didn’t feel the need to hide around them. So when, say, her final class of the day had been unexpectedly cancelled and she decided to surprise him at school, he eagerly introduced her to Dingo and Brielle as _his girlfriend, yes that one, yes you can stop laughing now_ , and she had kissed him like she was proud of the title and wanted everyone to know it. Secret makeouts were great, he remembered thinking, but he was a big fan of the not-so-secret kind, too.

Because it was one thing to have her tug him into an alley when they were walking down the street and she spotted Alya and Nino up ahead. He couldn’t really complain when she was pressing him against the wall, as one thing usually led to another and the next thing either of them knew he had her pressed against the bricks instead as he stole as many kisses as she’d allow. (Or that one time when she’d just said screw it and hoisted him up instead – his reaction to that had been more than a bit embarrassing.)

It was one thing when he’d been at the school for Kitty Section’s final sound check before they played the big end of year dance, she’d ducked into the empty art room to grab something for the decorations, he’d followed her with a flimsy excuse about needing a water break, and a teacher had nearly caught him bending her back over a table. It was only sheer dumb luck that had placed the spray paint she’d been looking for on the table near them. Well, that and superhero reflexes that had allowed them to scramble and gather the paint before the teacher had noticed their formerly compromising position…

And it was one thing when he’d only been able to steal _one_ dance with her at said dance (while Alya had somehow orchestrated _five_ with Adrien, despite Kagami also being there), and the entire time she’d shot him secret little smiles while mouthing _hands_ at him (because there was a respectable distance between _boyfriend hands_ and _good friend hands_ , and he maybe enjoyed flustering her by toeing that line a little too much). He’d spent the entire dance staring wistfully at her from the stage, and if any of his bandmates noticed they were kind enough to not mention it. Really, they probably just chocked it up to his usual longing stares.

It was still one thing when they were on her bed, enjoying a lazy makeout, and Alya called up from downstairs and she shoved him through her balcony hatch – _into the pouring rain_ – until her bestie had left _half an hour later_. (Though that admittedly wasn’t all that bad, because at least it was a warm rain and, once Alya had gone, her guilt had led to more snuggles and makeouts in an attempt to warm him up.)

Secret makeouts were great. He loved them. He loved watching the convoluted excuses Marinette tried to come up with to explain the not-so-secret looks, the sudden increase in hugs, the way his hand seemed to linger more on her shoulder or elbow or wherever was considered socially acceptable to touch _as a good friend_. And maybe he didn’t try as hard as he could have to back up her flimsy excuses, and maybe he was convinced that everyone – at least Kitty Section, or whoever happened to swing by the band’s rehearsals (like Alix and Mylène and Alya) – already knew they were together and were also just humoring her. And maybe his amusement was turning into a little frustration that he couldn’t just sit her down in his lap while, say, they sat around the table in the Liberty’s sunroom going over plans with the others for costume changes for the summer festival they’d be playing. It would have been better than how he had accidentally rubbed his foot against Mylène’s leg and then sat there in horrified silence as Mylène berated Ivan for _time and place_ , and then chased after Marinette as she made a hurried excuse about _drinks who’s thirsty I’ll get drinks!_ and disappeared below decks (with his own hurried excuse about _here let me help!)_.

And really, it was a miracle they _hadn’t_ been caught by any of her friends yet, as neither was as sneaky as they thought they were. Marinette didn’t know what was worse: the Captain catching her sitting on the counter in the galley with Luka between her legs (his mouth firmly attached to her own as the hands gripping her hips pulled her against him) and reminding them to _be safe_ or Jagged freakin’ Stone surprising her for a consult, catching her climbing on top of Luka (…ok, pouncing: she was definitely pouncing) on her chaise, and crowing _“Get it, girl!”_ while Penny called out her apologies and dragged the rock giant back down the steps.

(…or maybe what was worse was the time Juleka and Rose had come home early, when Luka wasn’t supposed to be there either but was (and had been taking full advantage of the presumed alone time with another lazy makeout on his bed), and they’d had to hide in his closet to avoid getting caught. It hadn’t been that bad, until the very obvious sounds of horny teenagers – and a buzzing Marinette didn’t even want to think about because there was _no way_ she should know what it was from, no way, no how – filtered through the door. It was too dark to see properly inside the closet, but Marinette was pretty sure Luka’s eyes were as wide as hers were – his face definitely felt as warm when he ducked it against her neck. Rose’s scream drowned out her choked laugh as he whispered in her ear, “See? I told you they’ve done worse!”)

And so their parents knew, after the Captain had caught them. When Jagged had left, claiming he’d be back later because Marinette was _busy,_ and her parents had confronted her later about what – _who_ – she’d been busy _with_ , she was horrified to realize they had known, too – or at least suspected. And his friends knew, because they didn’t know Adrien (personally, at least) and neither saw the point in hiding their relationship from them. But as far as _her_ friends (and his sister) were concerned, she still insisted on keeping them under wraps.

And it was great. Because secret makeouts and near-misses were one thing. They were exciting, thrilling, _hot._

But Luka couldn’t deny that he liked sitting with her in a café more popular with his lycéen crowd, sharing earbuds as she cuddled against his side and he excitedly went on about the more technical side of Jagged’s newest music video. (“There, you hear that, there? The way the notes bounce – and see his hand? God, that’s skill!”) He liked the way her face lit up when she saw how the jacket she had made Jagged reflected the light in the video, and he liked that – when it was just them, even in a public place where no one they knew could catch them – he could kiss her cheek because he didn’t have to hide how adorable he found her. He loved that she could turn to him, a little smile on her face, and kiss him on the mouth because she wasn’t afraid of being caught.

He liked the way she reached for his hand when Dingo and Brielle invited them to the old black and white cinema that was more aligned with Brielle’s _artistic tastes_ , and how she hugged onto his arm while they waited in line for snacks. He liked how they didn’t have to make excuses when she sat beside him because she was his _girlfriend_ and she was _supposed_ to sit beside him – just like she was supposed to giggle and blush when the lights went out and he leaned over to kiss her. Just like Dingo was supposed to chuck a fistful of popcorn at them and tell them to _get a room_ and Brielle was supposed to slap the back of his head and tell him to _let them be cute, God, Ding._ He liked how, after the movie was out and they saw Andre on the bridge across from the cinema, she grabbed his hand and led them to the line, and it wasn’t weird when Andre served them blueberry (like his hair) and cherry (like her blush). He _really_ liked how, as they were sitting with Brielle and Dingo enjoying their ice cream, she darted in to steal a bite off his spoon – and didn’t move away when it turned into a kiss instead. At least until Dingo poked her side and said, “You two are disgusting. I love it. Jules is gonna give you so much hell when you finally tell her.”

“Juleka?” Brielle snorted, licking at the lime sherbet (for Dingo’s mohawk) on her spoon. “You mean Rose. Rose is going to go absolute _ape shit_ over you two. I can’t wait.”

He liked how he was expected to join her family for dinner every now and then, and how she wasn’t afraid to hug him with her mother watching. He liked that she wasn’t afraid to snuggle on the couch with him while she annihilated her dad at Ultimate Mecha Strike 3, and he liked that Tom called him son and made jokes (ok, _thinly veiled threats_ ) about _treating his baby girl right_. He liked that he was allowed to kiss her under the side door light, and that she didn’t hurry to send him away because she was just his girlfriend and taking fifteen minutes to say goodnight was something girlfriends did.

…he _didn’t_ like overhearing Juleka and Rose talking about how there was only one week of school left, and what was going to happen when Adrien and Marinette weren’t going to the same school anymore? He didn’t like hearing them plot with Alya, Mylène, and Alix about _one last shot at Andre’s Sweetheart Ice Cream_ (because it was _their_ ice cream now, not hers and Adrien’s), or how Adrien was going to be in London for most of the summer and they only had so much time before their _Adrienette Window_ closed. He really didn’t like the look Alya shot him when he suggested maybe they should let Marinette make her own move, that she’d confess when she was ready, and was it really good to be orchestrating their love lives like this?

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, _Couffaine_ ,” Alya huffed.

“I might have a better idea than you think, _Césaire,_ ” he shot back, glaring over his guitar.

“This is _true love,_ not…music theory,” Alya tutted, waving her hand dismissively. He was tempted to argue that it was both. “ _Destiny._ Soul mates! They just need a little nudge!”

He didn’t say how, if Adrien and Marinette were _soul mates_ and _destiny_ or whatever, they shouldn’t need any nudging at all. Marinette had jumped him just fine all on her own that first time (and every time since), no nudging required.

So he had gone back to his guitar, playing a song that was becoming as familiar as breathing, and let the girls go back to their schemes. He was successfully ignoring them until Juleka’s voice called his attention back to their conversation.

“I dunno, Alya,” she mumbled, picking at a rip in her tights, “maybe Luka’s right.”

Well, that had certainly shocked the hell out of him.

“Excuse me?” Alya had asked, her eyes narrowing dangerously. “Right about _what?”_

“It’s just…” Rose chimed in, tapping her chin in that way she did when she was trying to figure out a particularly difficult puzzle (like what flower she was in Alya’s plot if she wasn’t a rose), “…Marinette doesn’t really seem very interested in Adrien anymore? So…maybe, I dunno, we _should_ let her make her own move?”

He could’ve kissed her, if he wasn’t so happy kissing Marinette (and she wasn’t so happy kissing his sister). He’d always known Rose was his favorite.

“Marinette doesn’t seem brave enough to confess on her own,” Lila spoke up, and though her voice was simpering Luka heard the mocking scoff underneath. “I mean, I couldn’t say for sure, since she’s snubbed _every_ attempt I’ve made at being her friend, but I get the feeling Marinette’s the type to need a little…help.”

His eyes narrowed in a glare, and he stopped playing altogether.

“You’re right, Lila,” he said firmly. They all looked at him as he once again cut in. “You _wouldn’t_ know.”

“And _you_ would?” she huffed, folding her arms over her chest. “Honestly, Luka, you sound as if you want us to abandon this so _you_ can date her instead.”

An uneasy silence filled the cabin. The other girls exchanged nervous looks while he locked glares with Lila.

“I have _never_ lied about my feelings for Marinette,” he said firmly. He stood, letting his guitar fall to his back, and started for the door. He paused, turning to give Lila one final glare over his shoulder. He still didn’t understand why Juleka hadn’t kicked her out when she’d turned up with Alya. “But you’re right. What do I know, anyway?”

He had left them then, no longer wanting any part of Alya’s matchmaking schemes (even as a biased observer), and twenty minutes later he was cutting off Marinette’s cheery greeting with a hard kiss.

“I know you want to keep this between us, and I know why,” he said when he pulled back. She wormed her hands under his shirt, hooking her thumbs through his belt loops and pulling him between her legs. He groaned and cupped her face in his hands, bending down to seal her mouth in another searing kiss. She giggled when he got a little too excited and leaned into her, making her chair roll back into her desk. He heard the rattling pen cup and pulled away, pressing his forehead against her own. He kept his eyes closed, taking a moment to breathe and let her closeness calm him. “But if I have to listen to one more of Alya’s _planning sessions_ I’m going to spill.”

“… _what?”_ she asked, her grip on his hips tightening. He leaned in for another kiss, but he ended up laughing instead when she tugged him forward into her lap. It was slightly awkward, as he was so much bigger than she was (and he had to quickly swing his leg over hers to keep from pushing her out of the chair), but she was grinning up at him, and he…he kind of loved it.

(His girlfriend could break him in half, and God was he weak for that.)

“What’s Alya doing _now?”_ she asked, her voice sounding about as exasperated as she looked. He rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

“There’s only one week of school left,” he said.

“I know,” she said. An absolutely _wicked_ grin she never would have dreamed of making a few weeks ago curled her lips, and she pinched his hip. “ _I can’t wait._ ”

“…you’re going to kill me,” he groaned, kissing her again.

“That’s not the plan,” she giggled. He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“You have a plan?” he asked, though that shouldn’t have surprised him. She usually did.

“Mmm,” she hummed, tipping her head back. He nudged his nose against hers and stole another kiss.

“Care to share?” he pressed. She giggled again when he tugged on a pigtail, shaking her head.

“You’ll find out eventually,” she sighed, closing her eyes as he brushed his fingers through her pigtail. He choked when she barely opened her eyes, looking up at him through her lashes, and added: “…if you’re good.”

“Oh my _God_ , Marinette,” he groaned.

Her smile was positively evil – delicious – and he enjoyed kissing it off her face a little too much.

“So what about Alya?” she asked after another moment. He loved how breathy she sounded, how bruised her lips looked…he loved _her_ , and he loved that he was the one that made her look that way. Her head tipped back again, and her exposed neck was entirely too tempting. He nipped at the skin below her ear, drawing a pleased hum from her. “…Luka. What about Alya?”

“Her ship is sinking, and she’s fucking _pissed_ ,” he whispered in her ear. Her grip on his hips tightened briefly before her hands slid around his waist, wrapping her arms around him in a hug. She pressed her face to his chest and laughed, her entire body shaking with her cackles. He just grinned and returned his mouth to her neck, content to continue biting along the skin there. It would have been perfect, had her phone not started ringing ten seconds later. She swatted at him to let her turn and grab it, and he nipped at her ear in retaliation.

“Speak of the devil…” she sighed, shushing him before accepting the call (and double-checking to make sure her video was off). “Hi, Alya. What’s up?”

“Girl!” he heard Alya cry through the phone. “So Lila got another photo shoot with Adrien, and she invited us along!”

“…us?” Marinette asked warily, eyebrows furrowing in a frown. Luka kissed her brow, hoping to ease some of the tension. “That’s…” _uncharacteristic_ , she thought, “…nice…of her.”

“She’s just trying to help, Marinette,” Alya sighed. _Yeah_ , Marinette thought, _but help who?_ “Honestly, give her a chance – and take _this_ chance! Meet us at the park by your place in twenty minutes!”

“…sorry, Alya,” she said after a minute. She bit her lip as Luka’s hands slid along her sides, around her back, and lower. She needed to get them out of her chair and onto her chaise like ten minutes ago. “I have…” she bit her lip harder as his hand found her ass, as he drew his tongue beside the strap of her tank top, “… _stuff_ to do.”

Luka was more than happy to be _stuff_.

– V –

That last week of school wrapped up without incident.

Well…without _much_ incident.

There was the incident where Adrien and Kagami has ditched fencing practice for one last rehearsal before Adrien left town for the summer and Kagami had caught them in the galley, Marinette pressed against the counter and a spilled tray of juice dripping beside her as Luka sucked along the neckline of her top.

“I’m happy for you,” Kagami said calmly as Marinette squeaked and Luka raised his head from her chest. “Proceed.”

Marinette panicked and went to run after her as she went back above deck, but Luka caught her wrist and pulled her back to him.

“Marinette,” he sighed, trapping her in a hug. “Leave it. She told us to proceed.”

“But she’ll say something, and –” she started, and he cut her off with a soft kiss. She moaned as he pushed her back against the counter, her hands immediately returning to tangle in his hair.

“And _what_ , Mari?” he asked. “It’s Kagami. She won’t say anything.”

“Exactly,” she huffed. “It’s _Kagami._ She won’t mean to say anything, but she _will_. She’s not exactly well-versed in tact.”

“You sound like she’s going to run out there with a ten-piece band and shout that we’re down here,” he said dryly. Her eyes blew wide.

“She might! I’m sure the Captain has way more than ten instruments stashed away here!” she cried. He laughed, ducking his head against her shoulder to muffle the sound. “Luka! It’s not funny!”

“It kind of is,” he said. His grip on her hips tightened, and he pulled her against him as he kissed her shoulder. “I don’t care, darning. Let her tell them. They already know, anyway.”

“They do not!” she huffed, but it turned into a moan as he returned to her chest. She sucked on her lip, her head tipping back as he ground against her. “Al-Alya doesn’t, at least.”

“They probably suspect,” he amended. She squeaked as he scooped her up and sat her on the counter. The tray clattered to the ground, completely forgotten. “But if you insist. Just…two more minutes?”

“ _Five,”_ she breathed, grabbing his face and pulling his mouth back to her own.

– V –

With summer came a new sense of freedom. Adrien left for London the day after school ended, and while they had both joined the others at the train station to see him off there was no awkwardness – or at least not much. She had stood off to the side with the band as Nino and Adrien talked, Alya and Lila a short distance behind them with some other members of the class. When Adrien had approached them, Marinette had actually hugged him and wished him the best. Rose’s eyes had darted between the three of them as Luka pulled him into a half-hug, but she had said nothing. When Adrien had gone to say goodbye to Kim and Max, Luka had laid an arm across Marinette’s shoulders, and she had leaned back against him and watched with a fond smile as Adrien boarded the train. And if Alya had given her a disappointed look as the train had pulled away, Marinette chose not to see it.

Marinette found herself spending more time on the Liberty as the summer progressed. Alya was busy with Nino – and sometimes Lila, and sometimes babysitting her sisters – so if she noticed her best friend’s distraction she didn’t really say anything. It was just summer, and everyone was busy. When she wasn’t at the Liberty, she was filling her time with commissions, projects to pad her portfolio, and extra babysitting time. Upon his eighteenth birthday, which came shortly after the school year ended, and passing his driver’s test, Luka left his job delivering pizzas on his bike and took up a job Tom and Sabine had offered him at the bakery. They had been looking for a new delivery driver, and Marinette was ecstatic to have a legitimate excuse to have him around the bakery more. (Tom, subtle as ever, was just ecstatic to start _passing down the family trade_. Sabine, at least, reminded him to wait at least a year before he started planning the wedding.)

Of course, they became more…careless with summer, too. It was easy to do so when most of the people Marinette wanted to hide the relationship from were busy with their own plans. Juleka and Rose were usually out and about the city, spending as much time together as they could before school started up again and life drew their attention from each other. Ivan and Mylène were a similar story, though Mylène had convinced Ivan to tag along with most of her community projects instead of lazy dates. Alix and Kim were away at sports camps for most of the summer, Max was either in summer courses or spending time with his mother before she left for space, and Alya was busy with Nino, Lila, and her sisters. With everyone in her old class otherwise preoccupied, Marinette was allowed to just _be_ with Luka.

They’d lost count of how many times the Captain had walked in on them since summer’s start. Usually it wasn’t as embarrassing as that first time, but there had been that time he’d been helping her apply some sunblock on the upper deck and things had gotten…heated. The Captain had turned right around with a shout about groceries, and the mood had been sufficiently shattered (…at least hers had been: he had tried coaxing her back into his lap, but by the time she’d finally started kissing him again the band was arriving for practice). They’d also learned the bakery walk-in was a _great_ place for secret makeouts, as long as they could stand the cold (which, in the summer heat, wasn’t that hard).

There were more double dates with Dingo and Brielle, and Marinette was finding she loved his friends. Brielle was like the big sister she’d never had, and Dingo was…well, _Dingo_. The first person to discover their relationship outside of their parents (well, third, if you counted his friends) was Chloé Bourgeois (the fourth being Sabrina). They had been at a street faire Brielle had heard about, perusing the stalls and just enjoying the other’s company, when she had found a pair of earrings that looked exactly like Sass’s eyes. He had given her a knowing smile as she held them up to his ears, and she had tried to brush it off as _oh you mentioned once you like snakes I thought they were cute?_ , and one thing had led to another and soon they were kissing in front of the stall.

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice had cut in behind them, and Marinette’s entire body had spasmed in a wince as she turned and came face to face with Chloé, who was apparently back in town for part of the summer. A perfectly manicured brow was cocked high on her forehead, and Chloé raised her sunglasses to smirk at her old frenemy. “About time, Dupain-Cheng.”

She said nothing else before sauntering off, her favorite flunky trailing behind her. Sabrina, who had always been aware of more of the class’s goings-on than she’d ever let on, spared one last glance as she scurried away – and even _smiled_ at her and offered a quick thumbs up. Marinette had looked back at Luka, bewildered, but he was busy talking with the stall owner. She watched as he handed some money over, and her eyes widened as he switched his earrings out for the snake eyes. When he caught her staring, he grinned and darted in for a quick kiss.

“What?” he asked, squeezing her hand when he reached for it. “You were right. I like snakes.”

Dingo had _howled_ when he saw them. Within a few minutes he’d forced them to show him the stall and was sporting his own pair, though his were a lime green that matched his mohawk.

– V –

So, really, it should have surprised no one when, about halfway through the summer, Juleka walked into their cabin, caught Marinette in Luka’s lap with her tongue down his throat and his hands under her shirt, threw her bottle of sunscreen at them, and screamed, _“I fucking knew it!”_

At least Marinette didn’t accidentally knee his groin in her mad dash to get away from him that time.

…actually, she didn’t try to flail away from him at all. She did tense, which was a wonderful kind of torture in itself when she pressed herself closer to him in an attempt to hide, but she didn’t jump away – and thank God for that, as that would have been a whole other level of embarrassing for everyone involved. His hands slid from her back to lock firmly on her hips, and she hid her face against his neck with a quiet squeak. He turned his head slightly to glare at his sister, but he also made no attempt to hide the fact that he had just been making out with the girl in his lap.

“Jules,” he began, his thready voice dripping with sarcasm, “ever heard of knocking?”

“It’s my room, too, dumbass,” she replied, just as sarcastically, “so technically I don’t have to.”

“I would’ve knocked if I’d known you had Rose in here,” he pointed out. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, and Juleka snorted.

“Except you’d expect me to have Rose in here,” she said. She plopped down on the bed beside them, and Marinette squeaked again and burrowed closer to him. He sighed and wrapped his arms around her back, his hands drawing soothing lines over her shirt. Juleka’s expression softened a bit and she reached out, laying a comforting hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Mari. Relax. It’s ok. I’m not really mad.”

“Yes, you are,” she mumbled into his shirt. Juleka snorted and shook her head.

“I’m really not,” she said. Marinette peeked out just in time to see her flick Luka’s forehead. “I’m happy for you two idiots. Honestly. It’s about damn time.”

“W-what?” Marinette asked, pulling back just enough to look at her properly. Juleka was smiling. “But…he’s your _brother_ , and Adrien –”

“Marinette,” Juleka said, reaching out again to lay a hand on Marinette’s shoulder, “can I tell you something?”

Marinette nodded, and Juleka squeezed her shoulder.

“I haven’t been supportive of you and Adrien for a long time,” she said, her voice still quiet but firm. She leaned back against the wall and tucked her hair behind her ear. She looked up at the ceiling and smiled. “Since I realized how much my stupid brother actually liked you. And then I started to notice how much you liked him, and then it was just a waiting game to see when you’d realize you didn’t like Adrien anymore. No offense, Marinette, but it’s seemed like you only liked him because it’s what you thought we expected of you for a while now. Not because you actually still like him.”

“But…you…” Marinette shook her head, dumbfounded. “But…you never thought I was using Luka as a rebound?”

Juleka actually laughed at that. She actually doubled over, holding her stomach as she laughed. When she finally looked up, she was wiping tears from her eyes.

“ _Marinette_ ,” she gasped. “Like he’d let you!”

“Oh, I totally would have let her,” Luka quipped, hugging Marinette close. “I’m stupid in love with her, remember?”

“No, you’re just stupid, and you wouldn’t settle for just being a rebound,” Juleka scoffed. She grabbed her sunblock and bopped them each on the head. “And neither would she. Anyway. If that’s why you weren’t telling us, the Adrien thing, you should probably know most of us were already guessing – at least those of us in the band. Your foot is smaller than Ivan’s, Lu.”

He had the decency to blush and look away at that. She chuckled again as she hopped up.

“Anyway, I’m late,” she said. She waved at them vaguely as she made her way to the door. “Carry on.”

“So glad we have your permission,” Luka grumbled, pressing his forehead against Marinette’s shoulder. Her hands slid back into his hair, a giggle – only slightly panicked, he was relieved to hear – escaping her. “Now scram before I really embarrass you.”

“Gross!” Juleka called as she left.

Luka kept his face against Marinette’s shoulder, enjoying the way she was tangling her fingers in his hair. She tugged on the strands slightly, trying to get him to look up at her, but he shook his head before pressing a kiss against her clavicle. His hands slipped back under her shirt, his palms smoothing against her skin as he tried to steady himself. Honestly, he was amazed Juleka hadn’t stumbled in on them long before now – it’s not like either of them were any good at this _secret relationship_ thing, especially lately. Well…it’s not like he was honestly trying anymore, anyway. But it had been important to Marinette, and now…well. If he was honest, he didn’t think it was going to be the last time Juleka caught them in a compromising position. He hoped it wouldn’t be, at least, because that meant Marinette was willing to be open about their relationship.

“Hey,” she called softly, tugging on his hair again. He looked up at her, a bittersweet smile curling his lips.

“I guess this means the jig is up,” he said. She didn’t look upset about it, though. She shrugged a little.

“It’s…fine,” she said. He raised an eyebrow at that, and she laughed slightly. “It’s fine. More than fine. Apparently, they already knew anyway. We suck at keeping secrets.”

“I suck at staying away from you,” he said. He tugged her closer, and she met him halfway for another lazy kiss. When she pulled back to trail more kisses along his jaw, he hummed. “And you suck at keeping your hands to yourself.”

“I like kissing you, remember?” she asked, nipping at his ear. He chuckled, slumping back against the wall. She moaned as the motion pressed his hips up into her, and she could definitely call it a moan this time. She’d had a while now to become better versed in them, after all. “A-among other things. I’m liking the other things, too.”

His chuckle was low as he pulled her against him, both of them groaning as he settled her more firmly in his lap. He was liking the other things, too. That still didn’t answer his question, though.

“So does this mean we can finally tell them we’re together?” he asked. “I’m not saying I want to ravage you in front of them, but I’d at least like to hold your hand around them without worrying.”

“It would be nice to hug you without getting weird looks,” she giggled. At some point he had laid back on the bed. She crossed her arms over his chest and propped her chin on them, smiling at him as he started playing with her pigtails. “Honestly…I know we haven’t really discussed it, but…I was kind of hoping we could tell them when school started.”

His brows quirked at that, and she rolled her eyes before ducking her face against his chest. She dropped a kiss just below his heart, making him smile.

“I mean, we’re going to the same school now, and your friends already know about us,” she said, her voice muffled between her arms and his shirt. She looked up at him again, her cheeks dusted with a distracting pink. “Juleka, Rose, and Nathaniel are going to be going there, too, and I thought…well, I was hoping by then enough time would have passed…but I guess the _jig is up_.”

“News is out,” he teased, and she rolled her eyes as she snuggled against him. “They finally found us.”

“Are you a wanted man, then?” she asked. He laughed and hugged her tight, rolling so that they were on their sides. He found her lips again, and the next thing she knew her back was pressing into the bed as he rolled on top of her.

“Only if _you_ want me, ma mélodie,” he murmured against her lips. “You’re definitely a wanted girl.”

“Alya invited me to the movies tomorrow,” she said, though getting the words out was increasingly difficult with how he kept trying to kiss her. She shifted beneath him as his hand moved along her side, his thumb brushing against her ribs as his other hand slid along her side to her lower back. She whimpered when he pulled her up against him. “ _Luka_.”

“…I’m not even sorry,” he chuckled against her neck, nipping at the skin. “Jules did tell us to continue being gross.”

“I’m trying to talk to you,” she huffed. “You’re being _very_ distracting.”

“You’re always distracting,” he said, biting at her again. She sucked in a breath, her back arching. She never should have told him about the biting thing – she enjoyed the biting thing _entirely_ too much. (“It’s like kissing, but with a winner!” Alya had once cackled at her, back before she knew anything about the biting thing and how much she’d actually enjoy it and could only hide her blushing face at her friend’s teasing.) “And I’m listening. Alya invited you to the movies.”

“D-do you want to come?” she asked, somewhat breathless from his affections. He froze against her – probably about the same time she did. He started laughing when she flailed beneath him, trying to push him away, but he had already collapsed against her, his face pressing into her shoulder. She shrieked and tried to shove him away (again, unsuccessfully), settling on slapping his back when he refused to budge. “L-Luka! That is _not_ what I meant! Oh my God!”

“I know, but…” he wheezed, his arms wiggling beneath her as he tried to both not crush her and pull her closer. “I love you. I love you so much, Marinette. And yes, I’d love to come.”

He grinned at her, nudging her nose with his own.

“…just to clarify,” she said primly, glaring at the ceiling so she wouldn’t have to look at his stupid face (which was about as red as her own, she was pleased to note), “you want to join me at the movies tomorrow? As my boyfriend?”

His hand found her cheek, and he tipped her face back towards him. He was beaming at her.

“I want to join you at the movies tomorrow,” he confirmed. He bent down and kissed her, and she maybe only tried to push him away a little that time. Her efforts were half-hearted at best, and after a moment she sighed and let him press her back into the bed. He nipped at her lips one last time before pulling away. “As your boyfriend.”

His grin took on a wicked tilt.

“In fact,” he continued, bending down to rub his nose against hers, “I’d _love_ to come as your boyfriend.”

“Lukaaaaa!” she whined as he collapsed against her again, howling with delighted laughter.

– V –

An hour before she was supposed to meet up with Alya found Marinette pacing circles in her room. Tikki watched from her desk in amusement, nibbling on a cookie as she watched her holder stress. And it was ridiculous, really, because Marinette had no idea what she was so nervous about.

She’d been with Luka for a while now. Since maybe a month before school ended. And now they were what? Two months into summer break? So…three months. Which wasn’t a long time, not really, but in the world of teenage romance that was impressive! She was proud of those three months!

…especially since she had been so adamant about keeping it a secret for most of those three months!

She stopped pacing and sighed, rubbing her palms over her face. This was stupid. She loved Luka. She really loved Luka. And it shouldn’t matter what her friends thought – which was even more stupid, because if Juleka was to believed they would all be supportive of the development, anyway! It was just…Alya. If she was honest, it was Alya. She loved Alya to death, but her best friend had been the ringleader in most of the _Team Adrienette_ plots. She wasn’t really concerned about disappointing her, not really, but…she couldn’t even say it was Lila anymore, as the end of school had found Lila flying back to Italy to spend the summer with her dad. When – _if_ – she returned in the fall, she wouldn’t even be at the same lycée as Marinette and Luka. And from what Alya had said, she wouldn’t be at her and Nino’s school, either, so any fear that Lila might find a way to continue influencing her friend was entirely unfounded.

She sat down on her chair and spun with a frustrated groan. It was all so…so…so… _stupid!_

“…uh-oh,” Luka chuckled from her door. She yelped and flailed, sitting up straight and nearly falling out of her chair in the process. When she got a good look at him, she nearly fell out of it anyway. She barely had the presence of mind to glance back at her desk and ensure Tikki had hidden (she had). “This doesn’t look good. I promise you’re over-thinking this, darning.”

“Sailor, I don’t think I’m thinking _anything_ right now,” she said without thinking. He blinked at her before his head fell back in a laugh, one arm coming up to rest over his eyes. Her face turned a bright red, but she didn’t bother looking away.

He looked _really good_ , after all.

His ripped jeans were probably the only thing that had stayed the same about his wardrobe, though a few chains hung from the loops over his left hip. His sneakers had been replaced with chunky, buckled boots that would have had her Nonna drooling. A studded belt hung low on his hips, and his usual Jagged Stone shirt had been replaced by a wife beater – in _pink_ , and since when was Luka interested in pulling off _pink?_ (…and God, that was a thought she had to tamp down on _immediately_ , as she thought of her pink shorts, the pink panties underneath, and all the literal _pulling off_ she wished he was interested in instead.) Covering the wife beater was a black denim vest, ripped at the cuffs and frayed in all the right places. His hoodie was blissfully absent, and Marinette felt her throat go dry as she took in the sight of his bare arms. She had known he was subtly ripped – she had seen him shirtless, had felt the corded muscles through his hoodie plenty of times – and yet every time the sight of his bare arms left her a little dizzy. His bracelets and cuffs were still present, and the midnight blue beanie she had knit him last Christmas was stuffed on his head – and he had swapped out his earrings for the snake eye ones again. She almost didn’t want to look at his face: he’d pulled out the guyliner, and his lips…

…crap.

She’d been ogling.

And he was well aware of the fact.

And was enjoying it entirely too much.

He gave a little spin, and she was glad she was sitting – her knees definitely went weak. Her designer brain was kicking in, and she wondered if he would be interested in a teal viper embroidered on the back…

“So…” he asked, his voice almost a purr (…no, not purr, she thought, it was more…God, was he _growling?_ ) as he approached her, “…like what you see?”

“…I feel very underdressed right now,” she said, swallowing thickly. He stepped between her legs, and her hands immediately found his hips. She tipped her head back as he bent down, and she groaned when he kissed her. “Or over-dressed.”

She didn’t even have time to be embarrassed as his low chuckle sent a shiver down her spine.

“You look perfect,” he murmured against her skin, nipping lightly. She wouldn’t agree: she was only wearing pink cut-off shorts and a black tank top littered with pink polka dots. She hadn’t even put her shoes on yet, but she had been planning on a pair of black flip-flops. Compared to him, she was feeling _very_ underdressed.

“If I had known you were going to dress up…” she sighed. She gasped when he scooped her up, sat in her chair, and dropped her on his lap. Her arms and legs locked around him, and she sighed as he nuzzled her chest. “Luka, we don’t have time…”

“I’m early,” he said, nipping at her again. “We have a little time. And why wouldn’t I dress up? This is our first date.”

“No, it’s not,” she said, pulling back to blink at him. He smiled and leaned back against her desk, and that smile made her heart flutter. His thumb had slipped under her tank and was rubbing lazy circles against her skin.

“It’s the first date where we don’t have to hide the fact that it’s a date,” he said.

“It’s a group of friends going to the movies,” she huffed. She didn’t mention how at least four-fifths of the group were couples, making it a _group date_ at the least. “It’s not even a da–”

He cut her off with a hard kiss, his hands sliding around the curve of her ass and pushing her against him. She whimpered and gripped onto his belt, her other hand knocking his beanie off as it tangled in his hair. She moaned when he leaned up to her ear, biting at her lobe before whispering, “Get me in the back of the theater and it’ll definitely be a date.”

“Luka Couffaine, don’t you dare,” she gasped, laughing as she smacked his shoulder – or tried to. Her hand ended up sliding down his arm, an appreciative smile curling her lips as she felt the muscles beneath his skin. She kissed him again, squeezing his arm as she pulled back. “I really like the vest look. The whole look, actually. You look good.”

“…Jules helped,” he confessed. “Apparently, since you’re the next biggest designer in Paris, I have to put an effort into my wardrobe now.”

“I never said that,” she laughed, and he grinned.

“Jules did,” he said. He lifted a hand from her ass make air quotes. “I am not to _embarrass her_ with you, which apparently applies to my wardrobe now, too.”

“I like your wardrobe,” she said, “but…ok, this is nice, too. You know how much I love pink.”

“God help us,” he sighed dramatically, tipping his head back. “What is wrong with the Couffaines? We can’t stay away from pink people.”

“Alya’s going to be here soon,” she said, glancing at her phone as it lit up on the desk behind them. “She’s maybe ten minutes away.”

“That’s ten minutes I could spend kissing you,” he said, his hand returning to her rear. She rolled her eyes.

“Or ten minutes I could spend finding another outfit so I actually match my boyfriend,” she said.

“You look fine,” he insisted. “Maybe grab a hoodie on the way out, but you look fine.”

“A hoodie?” she asked. He answered her question with a bite on her shoulder.

“It gets cold in the theater,” he said innocently, like his reasoning had nothing to do with her top making him want to mark her but still wanting her to be able to cover said marks, if she wanted. She snorted, but she didn’t pull away from him until Alya texted her ten minutes later letting them know she was out front.

They walked down together. She grabbed a hoodie – one he had left there the day before, when he had helped her dad unload the cold delivery and had spent a good chunk of the morning in the walk-in – and slipped into it before they left the bakery. Luka pulled her into a corner once she was wearing his hoodie and gave her one last kiss, one that had her giggling as her mom walked past with a cake and a well-meaning _kids_. When they finally made it outside, Alya’s face was in her phone and her thumbs were flying over the screen.

“About time, gi…” she started, but then she looked up and actually _saw_ them. The linked hands, the smudge of Marinette’s lipstick at the corner of his mouth, Luka’s hoodie that barely hid the love bite on her shoulder...Alya’s eyes darted between them, her face splitting into a wide grin, and she actually _squealed_ and jumped into the air. “GIRL!”

Luka was grinning at her like he had known the entire time. Like he had expected such a reaction. Marinette reached up and tugged on a pigtail, nervously biting her lower lip.

“You’re not…you’re not…mad?” she asked. Her hand was jerked from Luka’s as Alya tackled her in a crushing hug.

“Mad? _Mad?_ ” Alya asked. “Girl, I am _furious_ – but only because you didn’t tell me! No, really, though, I am so unbelievably happy for you! I _knew_ there was something up with you two – about time, girl!”

Marinette was left dazed, blinking at her best friend as she pulled away and punched Luka’s arm. Her eyebrows soared over her glasses in appreciation, but she quickly hid it by jabbing a finger at him.

“You, Couffaine,” she said firmly, laying an arm across Marinette’s shoulders. “Take good care of my girl, ok?”

“Of course, Césaire,” he chuckled, sliding an arm around Marinette’s waist and tugging her back against his side. When she looked up at him, he leaned down to place a chaste kiss against her lips, and Alya screamed again.

“Ok, ok – you’ll have plenty of time for that during the movie! Kim’s picking, so you know it’s gonna be some muscle head action flick only him and Alix will like,” she tutted with a roll of her eyes. She was already back on her phone, sending texts out rapid-fire to the others in their group. “Just wait until we get there – Nino owes me _so much_ money!”

Marinette followed behind her in a daze, Luka’s arm around her shoulders grounding her. As Alya continued to prattle on ahead of them, he leaned down and nudged her temple with his nose.

“I’m glad she knows,” he confessed, kissing her cheek. “…but I am going to miss the secret makeouts.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she said innocently. Her hand slipped into his back pocket, and he chuckled as she quickly groped him. “…I think we can still sneak _some_ makeouts in, here and there. You said something about the back of the theater earlier?”

His laugh made Alya look back at them briefly, but she looked back at her phone when Marinette waved her off.

“…I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” he chuckled, kissing her head. She smiled and hummed, squeezing his ass again.

“I love you, too, Luka Couffaine.”


End file.
